Previously on The Legacy Files...

"What? Who the hell is Daniel Morgan? Not THE Daniel Morgan."

"If you mean the billionaire, then yes. He is listed as her power of attorney. It is all perfectly legal, I assure you. He did leave an address for you." She handed Colleen a business card with an address printed on it, and a handwritten note on the back. 

Sorry for the confusion. Please come see me. I will send a car for you. Uncle Daniel

And now, The Past is a Present, Part 3...

Suggested soundtrack: Medication (Acoustic Version) by Garbage

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Daniel Morgan sat in his favorite wing-backed chair before the fireplace in his drawing room.  Evan Kane stood before him, trying not to pace.  

“So the men who attacked Hillary wanted plans for a device?  What does this device do?” Daniel asked, brandy in hand.  He was an older gentleman, mid-sixties, with a grey beard and hair.  Time had done nothing to affect his good looks; he always had a pretty girl on his arm at every social function and Evan often wondered why he didn’t remarry.  He had been widowed many years before Evan was born.

“Hillary said she thinks it was a power cell of some kind.  Something of Tinker’s.”  

“And did they get the plans?”  

“I saw one of the men coming down the stairs with a file folder in his hands, but it’s hard to know what exactly they got.”

“Hmm,” Daniel said, and took a sip of his brandy.  “And Colleen didn’t remember you?”

“I don’t think she remembers anything about this life at all.  And Hillary won’t say why, either.”

Daniel sighed and took a sip from his brandy.  “When Hillary left with Colleen all those years ago, she gave very little information and very strict requirements, which I honored.  She was the girl’s legal guardian, and they had both been through so much.  She said she wanted a fresh start and to keep her safe.”  He looked at Evan.  “I know that was a very difficult time for you.  I honestly thought Colleen would at least sneak away to come say goodbye.”

“Yeah, me too.”  Evan swallowed the lump in his throat, remembering how he had waited for her to return.  So many nights just believing she would be back.  She had to come back.  She had said she would.  That was the last thing she had said to him.  

“I guess now we know why she didn’t.  Is there any way you can help her remember?

“Maybe, but she doesn’t trust me now.  I sort of screwed things up in that area.”

“Well, you have a chance to try again.  She’ll be here shortly,” Daniel said, matter-of-factly.  He watched as Evan stopped in his tracks and turned around.

“She’s coming here?”

“Well, she found out that Hillary is here, and wants to check in on her.  Sounds like an opportunity for a good second impression.” 

“Try third.  Uncle Daniel, I don’t think – “

“She needs you,” the older man said patiently.  “She needs your help.”

“What she needs is for me to leave her alone.  She’s said that multiple times now.  She’s afraid of me!  You should have seen her face on the roof!”  

“Evan, just because she is afraid of you, that does not mean you have to be afraid of her.”

“I’m not afraid!”  He protested, perhaps a bit too loudly.  What was he afraid of, anyway?  That she would hate him?  That things would never be like they were?  That that part of his life was well and truly over?

“Look, I know this is hard for you.  After everything.  I understand.”

Anthony, Morgan’s trusted butler, entered the room then and came to stand at his side.  “She is here, sir.  The car just arrived.”

“Please show her in, Anthony.”  Morgan paused for a moment to look at Evan.  “But give Evan a chance to take his leave, first.”

Evan breathed a sigh of relief and nodded his thanks.  “I’ll be upstairs,” he said and turned to leave the room.  He stopped at the door, though.  “I’m not afraid of her,” he said.  “I just don’t know what to say to her yet”

“It’ll come to you.”  

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The mansion was everything Colleen expected it to be – grand and old and traditionally furnished with lots of leather and rich wood and tapestries.  She had once seen an article about it in a magazine, but she never expected to be inside it.  However, once she stood in the marbled foyer, she was struck by how familiar it all seemed, and not in a glossy magazine picture sort of way, but in a way that made it feel safe, not imposing.  Like a refuge.  Somewhere she belonged.  

“Would you follow me please, Miss Colleen?”  How odd that the butler chose to address her by her first name rather than her last.  And the way he smiled when he said it made it seems as if he got some joy out of that, too. 

He led Colleen through the foyer and down a long hallway before stopping at a sturdy wooden door.  Anthony opened the door, entered the room ahead of Colleen, and then held the door open for her.  She followed him in cautiously, not sure what to expect.  A distinguished gentleman with a grey beard stood from his armchair to greet her.

“Colleen,” he said her name warmly and with some enthusiasm.  “I’ve been expecting you.  Please come, have a seat.  Can I get you anything?  Something to drink, perhaps?”

Colleen shook her head as she sat down in the chair opposite him.

“You must be wondering how I know your name.  And how I know Hillary.  I’ve been made aware of the fact that you likely have no memory of this place.  Is that correct?”

She hesitated to reveal what she thought would make her vulnerable, but her desire to know more won out.  “Yes,” she said.  “I have retrograde amnesia caused by…” By what?  An accident?  Was that even true now.  “…an event,” she finished, and then as an afterthought, added, “You’re not actually my uncle, are you?” 

“No.  That’s more of a term of endearment.”  He smiled.  “But I am actually your aunt’s power of attorney.  You are aware of that?”

“I am now,” she said, with a slight edge to her voice.  She did not appreciate her aunt being moved without Colleen’s knowledge or permission.  Despite all the grandness and confusing feelings of familiarity, she could not let herself forget what brought her here.  

“I am also her benefactor, though she has been quite independent for some time now.  I put up the money to help her start her business.  I also own the building where the two of you lived and worked.  The place used to be my office.  I’m sorry to hear that it burned down.  I’m sorry about all that happened that night.  It must have been terrible for you.  And I want to help you in any way that I can.  You see, I am also your benefactor, by way of your parents and my relationship with them.  The money you are using for your college came from me.”

The mention of her parents made Colleen sit up straight in her chair.  “You knew my parents?”

“Yes.  Sharon and Andrew.  Two very incredible people.  They worked for me.  

“Doing what?”

“Let me show you,” he said.  

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Colleen followed Morgan up the stairs and down a long hallway to a door at its very end.  Morgan pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked it.  

“Forgive me,” he said.  “I don’t often go into this room.  It’s very painful for me.”

He opened the door, flicked on the light, and let Colleen precede him.  Inside, the beautiful wooden wainscoting was lined with framed photos and paintings.  Down the center of the room was a long wooden table lined with leather chairs.  It looked to be a meeting room of some sort. 

While Colleen stood near the doorway, taking in the room, Morgan moved to a photo on the wall and stood with his back to her, as if waiting for her.  When Colleen joined him, she saw that it was a photo of a younger version of her host, with a young woman on either side of him, kissing each cheek.  She had to admit that he was quite handsome in his younger days, but what really caught her attention was when she recognized the two women.  The brunette with olive skin was her mother, and the girl with dark auburn hair and the same complexion had to be her Aunt Hillary.  By the looks of it, this picture must have been taken more than thirty years ago.  

“How did you meet them?” Colleen asked, still staring in fascination at the image before her.

“Your mother came to work for me first.  Then, a couple of years later, Hillary joined her.”  Morgan turned to Colleen.  “You do know of your aunt’s abilities?”

 Colleen hesitated.  She was always taught to keep that part of their lives a secret.  But yet he appeared to already know.  He appeared to know a lot of things.  “Yes,” she said finally.  

Morgan went on.  “They used to call her Six, because of that strange sixth sense she has on top of her telekinesis.  Your mother went by Jax, which was actually short for Jumping Jax.”  He smiled in amusement at the memory of the name.

“I don’t understand.  Who called them that?”

Morgan moved to the next photo and pointed.  In it, a group of people stood in camaraderie, arms around each other, some laughing or smiling or looking at each other and away from the camera.  There were eight of them in all, five men and three women, and among them, Colleen recognized her parents, her Aunt Hillary, and the blonde man Heath whom she had seen in that memory or vision or whatever it was. 

“The others did.  The team.  It was Richard Ellison’s idea.  They called him Bogey.”

Morgan pointed to a tall, conspicuous-looking black man with bulging biceps and a clean-shaven head.  Despite his intimidating physique that made him look like a bouncer at a nightclub, he had a kind look about him, particularly in the eyes.  

“There he is, there.  He could make himself invisible.  His idea was to create a team to combat all of the evils in this town.  And there were many evils at the time.  That’s how I lost my wife.”  His eyes took on a distant look for a moment, but he collected himself quickly and continued.  “Each person on the team had something special about them.  And Richard handpicked the members for their skills, as well as the potential they showed.”

Morgan moved on to another photo.  This one was of three children.  A little boy with mocha-colored skin and the beginnings of a small afro was wearing a leather jacket that was far too big for him.  The little strawberry blonde girl from Colleen’s memory was wearing goggles that take up her entire face.  Julia, wasn’t it?  

“You probably recognize the dark-haired girl in the picture.”  

“That’s me, isn’t it?” said Colleen, but she already knew.  She was the child wearing a sash that dragged the floor.  How weird it was to see a photo of herself as a child in a stranger’s house, though she knew now he was apparently less of a stranger than she had originally thought.  

“Yes.  The other little girl is Julia Aaron.  And I believe you had a run-in with the little boy yesterday.  Evan Kane. Though he doesn’t look much like this anymore, I do think he still wears the jacket from time to time,” Morgan said, smiling.  “It was his father’s.”

Colleen was silent as she took it all in.  There he was, standing next to her in the picture.  Evan.  It made it all real, really real, suddenly.  Those memories were real.  And he actually had been trying to help her.  Her pulse quickened.

“He didn’t mean to upset you,” he said as if sensing what she was thinking.  “He is very distraught over it, actually.  He only wanted you to know the truth.”

The mention of truth struck a nerve.  “And what is that, exactly?  That our parents were superheroes?  I bet mine didn’t die in a car accident either, like Aunt Hillary told me.”

Morgan sighed.  “No, they did not.”  

So there it was.  A confirmation.  Suddenly, she was afraid to go on.  Afraid to ask the question that must be asked, or to hear what was surely coming next.  She could feel her pulse pounding in her ears. The room was starting to spin a little now.  “Look, I don’t know how you expect me to react to all of this.  But it’s really too much for me right now.”

“I understand.”  And he took her elbow protectively.  Her face must have betrayed how she felt.  “Are you okay?  Can I get you anything?”

“No,” she said, her voice small.  “I just want to go home.”

“Very well.  We can talk again later.  No need to rush things.  Please know that you are welcome here any time, and for as long as you want.”

He looked to her to see that she understood, and she nodded her head.

“Right then.  I’ll see you out.”